Between Her and I
by 612
Summary: She is telling the story of us. I am just her window to this world. I am her lift, her support. And she was my comfort. Now a collection of one-shots & drabbles.
1. Between Her and I

**Rewritten as of December 7, 2010**

**Disclaimer**: James Patterson is the creator of _Maximum Ride_, the copyright belongs to its respective publishing companies and copyright holders. Askur owns the story and the little voice. _Do not redistribute this work of FanFiction unless permission is given._

**Author's Note**: Hate this? Love this? Mistakes? Complaints? You know what to do. _Inspired by Growths on **CreepyPasta**._

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* * *

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**Between Her and I, was a Secret**_

* * *

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_**H**ello._

That was the first time the little voice inside my head spoke. It was soft and soothing, seductive and pleasing. Barely audible, even to me, whom this voice spoke to. A shudder ran through my body. I was caught off guard by the sudden appearance of this voice. After years of living in paranoia, anything abrupt would made me raise my guard. Unlike the other Voice, this one was clearly female. _She_ did not speak as loud as the Voice, preferring to whisper shyly instead. _She_ wasn't docile as the Voice that disappeared when I needed it, _she_ always spoke to me even when I did not require _her._

Angel could not hear _her._ She could not hear the little voice through my thoughts. Was I giddy that even she, who knew every secret, did not know this one? I was, I was. I tried not to think about the words _she _spoke, how excited and enthusiastic I was when _she _would murmur comforts to me. Yes, I wanted be gentle like _her_,so I can comfort everyone. How could _she_ do it? I wanted to be like _her._

But no, I had responsibilities, weights that I carried on my shoulders. Or rather, on my back. Those wings were grave, and they would be my downfall—no puns intended. When I thought of my wings, she would speak the words I want to hear, not the cryptic riddles that the Voice would tell. No, the little voice's words made perfect sense. She was here for me and only me.

_I know how you feel._

How?

_Because I am you, Max._

I must be insane. There's a voice in my head.

_You are not._

Why try to argue with me? You are just a voice. Soon or later, you'll be gone like the Voice. Although it always come back when I least expect it.

The little voice didn't answer me, a pang of guilt struck moments after. Had I hurt her feelings?

For a few weeks, the misdeed I had done to her came back to haunt me. Everyone could see the guilt that I carried around, along with my wings. Angel would ask me questions, giving me suspicious and fleeting looks, but I did not answer her. Fang told me that I had become cold, I did not say a word. Iggy and Gasman said nothing, so did Nudge who usually talked to anyone. I could not speak to them, because I had hurt her, hurt my conscious. Am I cruel? No, no. I was not cruel. I just thought of the wrong words. I was rash then, I didn't think that she would be hurt by my words.

Then, she returned. It was like when the little voice first spoke to me, a shy _hello_. Oh how happy I was when she came back. How absolutely refreshing to hear that sound again. It was like drug to me. I would inquire her, or myself, how was she doing.

Fine, fine.

That was what she would chime to me lightly.

I was happy. She was back! Back! Had she forgiven me? I barely noticed the fact that the tender tone was a bit rougher. She must have cried. I apologized to her over and over. Angel sparred me strange glances. That made me stop and ignored the little voice that continued to breathe tiny, joyous words.

However, she was albeit controlling now. I didn't mind, I gave her the permission to be the master of my actions from time to time. It was all I can do to repay the pain I had caused her earlier.

_Do you want to be human, Max?_

Yes, I want to be human. I want to be a normal teenage girl. I don't want to be a bird kid. No, no! My flock is relying on me. I have to give them their freedom first. Their well-being is much important.

_Have you ever thought of yourself first?_

No.

_Why don't you now? Just once, be a human._

How?

_The wings. Get rid of them. That's why you're a mutant, am I right?_

Get rid of my wings? But I need them for flight, for protecting my flock. To protect Angel, Fang, Nudge, Iggy, and Gasman! I can't abandon my wings.

She paused, as if she was thinking. If she could think, how could I not hear her thoughts? I wanted to know what she's think. I want to...

_Max, stop it! You're hurting me!_

I'm sorry, I'm sorry!

The little voice did not reply after the pained whines died out.

Once again, I had hurt her.

I'm sorry. Please answer me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Hello? I'm sorry. Please tell forgive me! I'm sorry. Hello? I'm sorry. Please answer me. I'm sorry. Are you there? I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Are you there? Please answer me. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Hello? I'm sorry. Please tell forgive me! I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please answer me. I'm sorry. Are you there? I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Hello? I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. Please answer me. Hello? Are you there?

There was no answer. Only my own thoughts echoed in this darkness.

* * *

_**S**he_ spoke harsher. Much rougher than I had know _she_ could. But _her_ promises were so tempting. So, so tempting... I snapped out of my trance when Nudge snapped her fingers in front of my face. At the moment, the Flock and I were seated in a McDonald. Everyone looked at me impatiently, as if they were waiting for me to say something important.

"Max, what's our plan?"

I swallowed hard; I had spaced out during an important meeting. They would start suspecting. As I was about to speak, the little voice murmured _her_ plans to me. It was too risky. I went against _her_ idea and thought of my own within a few moments. _She_ was disappointed that I did not heed her plans, but did not argue against my decision.

Time wore on. _She_ whispered more and more sentences into my mind, or were they commands? No, they couldn't me commands, just opinions _she_ had. _Her_ voice was so pleasing to listen to. I trusted _her._

_Here's what you should do... this is for the best._

_Yes, just like that... Just listen to me, Max. I can protect the Flock. I can protect you all. Let me speak..._

_You're in charge, Max. There's nothing to fear, no one will rise against what they had followed for so long._

I listened. I complied.

_She_ told me that she felt free and alive.

That was all I could do for _her_.

_Take the knife, Max._

For the past few days, that was all _she_ had been telling me when I got near something sharp. I would look at the fine edges hungrily, wondering if this tool would bring me the liberty I sought for so long. Fang seemed to notice my fascination with them, and he took the time to remove anything relatively jagged away from my reach. Sometimes, I would stare at his face twisting with emotions as Angel talked into his ears. Grief? Pain? Concern? It was a mystery. Angel would look at me, puzzled. Nudge would ask me if everything was alright. Iggy would cook something extra special, if resources were available. Gazzy didn't play a prank. Everything was absolutely perfect, home-like. Still, there was one thing missing. Humanity. My humanity.

_She_ urged me on.

_This is your chance, Max, take it!_

It was horrible. Almost a screech-like sound ringing inside my head. This wasn't the soothing voice I had heard. This was something entirely different. I tried to will my hand down, away from the knife. No, no! It wasn't listening to me. I couldn't control them! _She _continued to scream. Her tone was scratchy, terrible. Terrible, yet convincing, persuasive. _Take the knife!_

The cold, metal edge...

* * *

**I** laid there with red liquid gushing from my back Each time I took a breath, it was short and brief. Pain and realization soon struck me. Why was I so stupid? Trusting the little voice so easily was a mistake. No, no. It wasn't a mistake. It was all my fault. The blame wasn't suppose to be on _her._ It was my fault that _she_ became this way. It was mine, and only mine.

A shudder rocked through my body.

Angel and the rest of the flock flooded the kitchen with their appearance. I hid my face in shame, behind my hair. How could I lead my family like this? Wingless, different. I didn't realize how selfish I was, and let the greed control me. Blinded by the want of humanity, I was unable to see my family. I can't see them now either. Their figures were blurred. I wanted to see them.

But_ she_ came back. _She_ always did. This time, _she _only had two words to say.

_Thank you._**

* * *

End**


	2. Society

The only thing Max could do now was to take short, harsh breaths of air. Her throat ached, each breath pained her, but she needed to live. Max's thoughts were not on how weak she appeared, nor how her heart beat so fast either, but one thing; her Flock was gone—_slaughtered_. The government had caught a wind of their existences and deemed them hazardous to society. Had they no shame? Killing teenagers who only wanted freedom, it was _pathetic_.

Max would have snarled in disgust if it was not for Angel, who barely held onto Max and lived. Angel, her sweet, precious Angel. The girl was almost a daughter to Max, who's eyes shined brightly, all-knowing. Angel and the Flock was Max's responsibility, yet look at them now. Gone. Angel was gone too, but not as far as the others have. The life was sucked out of her by the government's cruel game. It was worse than the School, much, much worse.

Society had labelled them as freaks, freaks of nature. Max knew they were freaks. Weird, out of place, exiles of the norm. Even with the 98 percent of human DNA, the Flock was still marked as animals. They weren't suppose to be real. They were suppose to be a figment of imagination of scientists and writers everywhere. But Max existed, Angel existed, Iggy had existed, Nudge had existed, Gasman had existed, and Fang had existed.

With her arms wrapped securely around the limp doll who was Angel, Max took flight.


	3. Deathfall

**Author's Note**: For **BookHunter** and **The Jessamine Riot**. Concepts are _Thalia/Max _and _a realistic Fang's sister_. Unfortunately, my muse and motivation ditched me half way through so...

**Warnings**: Contains spoilers to the Percy Jackson and the Olympian series, mild fem-slash, Fax, and Character Death. You've been warned.

* * *

**E**verything had a beginning.

Thalia's obsession was not an exception. She had swore off men. In her mind, they were unintelligent, rash, and dominant. Thalia does not take dominance very well from males, not at all. They very much disgust her. However, unlike her obsession, there was an exception to her hatred of dominance. But there was a question to be answered. What was her obsession?

Max. Maximum Ride, the avian-human modified by science. An unlucky prey for the predators. Max's fall was beautiful; beautiful enough to be shot down by mortal hunters. It was by pure chance that Thalia had spotted Max before she plunged to her death.

The huntress thought that falling in love was below her, and that was not on the top of her agenda. When Thalia tried to deny it, a voice in the back of her mind always taunts about her infatuation for Max. The girl was in a coma for Zeus's sake! How could Thalia find love for a teenage girl who did nothing but to sleep? It was Max's unconscious face, her smile when she slept, that was calming and pleasing to Thalia's senses.

However, that did not stop her from fussing over Max. No, it only encouraged her and gave her a sense of responsibility, like when the other huntresses were hurt.

It was too risky to give Max the little ambrosia Thalia possessed. Even though Max's body might be stronger than human's, she wasn't a demigod, and Thalia was indeed quite far away from Lady Artemis, rendering her unable to heal Max to her best condition. This also left Thalia to take care of Max in the non-magical way.

During the first hours, Max's breaths were laboured and difficult to control. However, Thalia was able to stop the blood flow and remove the bullets. She winced at the squish when five metal ammunition popped out of Max's flesh. Thalia's doctoral knowledge wasn't enough to provide her the information if Max will die from those wounds.

Max woke, gasping in pain. She looked at Thalia with fear-filled eyes that eventually cooled down to protected and wary glances. That was Thalia's opportunity to exchange words with her, even though the latter's speech slurred. That was how she learnt of Max's name. It was an odd name, but Thalia did not question Max's choice in that matter. Or did she have one at all? Max didn't had the look of a domestic teenager. But Thalia knew that talking too much would make Max weak, if she wasn't weak enough right now. Before Thalia's curiosity peak, and could ask Max any more questions, the mutant fell into a deep sleep.

Two days later, Max still hasn't woke again.

Something flew overhead.

Thalia tensed, her bow in set and ready to aim and fire. Her superhuman vision enabled her to spy the flying object. It was another bird kid, a male mutant. At the sight of that, Thalia almost snarled at the black feathered mutant. She hated men, and this one was no exception.

There was one thing that unnerved her slightly.

When Thalia saw him, she felt as if she was looking into a mirror, a more masculine face of hers. That fact made her near unbecoming, but she controlled herself. Her mother could not have gave birth to another boy could she? From the looks of it, the male was maybe older than her.

Fang.

The name that Thalia had learned to despise over the week. Thalia would bit down on her lower lips when Fang spoke to her. At first, she had refuse to give Max back to her "flock", this had triggered something in Fang, something that Thalia was fearful of. The possessive look clearly indicated Fang's feeling for her Max. Briefly, Fang commented on both of their looks. Afterwards, Thalia shot Fang a dirty look. How dare he even suggest that they were related? Sure they looked alike but Thalia's mother would never... Or could she? Thalia didn't want to know, but she knew the likeness between them was uncanny. It was very, very likely.

But that doesn't stop her anger from rising when Fang brushed his fingers over Max's hair. When Fang's eyes drifted over Max's body. When Fang listened to Max's soothing breathing.

Thalia gritted her teeth, and her grip around her bow tightened. One day, she would like to shoot Fang and gut his dead body. But not now, Max has to wake up first.

Max's breathing slowed, was it stabilising? It became softer, almost everyday. How many days has it been now?

An idea came across Thalia's mind, but she rejected it. How would she explain Max's wings in a human hospital? Fang had insisted on taking care of Max, but Thalia knew what she was doing. When Fang wasn't looking, Thalia gave Max a peck on the lips. They were warm and soft, tinted with blood hidden underneath it.

Three days from now, those lips would be clammy and cold. And those strong eyes would be devoid of life. Pity...Maybe Thalia and strike a deal with Hades to bring Max back. She wanted to know more about Max. There was still mysteries surround Max. Her brief determined look, her history and why Thalia had been so possessive. Or maybe Thalia would want it that way. Maybe she just wanted to see Max's stilled figure, wanting to admire the wings and the abnormality.

Thalia gave one last kiss on Max's icy lips.

_Everything had an end too._


	4. Life

**Author's Note**: For **nathan-p** who requested_ steampunk and/or some scientist thinking_. I put a hint of Jeb/Ter Borcht in there. Feel free to kill me.

**Warnings**: Jeb-centric, OOC!Character, Steampunk, kinda fail. You've been warned.

* * *

**J**eb Batchelder clicked his tongue in annoyance. Though a brilliant mind of his time, he couldn't help but to be slightly irked by the fact that nothing was coming to him. In two weeks, he was expected to have a complete printed design and a miniature model of an improved airship. One of its requirements was to have greater endurance in travel and a better defence among other little kinks. He had to admit that the task given to him was challenging, but he never suspected that it would give him a hard time. Jeb already eliminated several metals and materials, either disliking their sturdiness or not fancying their masses.

Ah, the harsh reality. Planning fallacy affected geniuses also. What a pity, Jeb thought he was above that.

But back onto the task at hand. Hm...Decisions, decisions. He knew that steel would be the best choice, but the Parliament had given him a limit on budget. A genius living during a wartime has its uses, and he would probably be supported if he sinks into mini-projects, but living in a dystopia immediately ruled out the factor. Economic issues were everywhere, at least Jeb was getting paid and feeding his family. But that body part design was lying in the corner of his room, gathering dust and half-eaten by the local booklices...He felt guilty.

Until remember to check his pocket watch and cursed. Where the hell was ter Borcht? That Germanic scientist should have been here several minutes ago—

The door slammed open and ter Borcht showed up, and very much alive with oil-stained hands. Jeb gave the scientist a disapproving look. Well, at least he appeared. It could be worse. (And days later, ter Borcht showed up on his doorstep with a weird looking clockwork cat for his daughter.)

"Sorry Je- Mr. Batchelder, a gear fell out of my car." Ter Borcht leaned over Jeb's shoulder, looking at the wide array of metals, tools, and papers. "Still haven't decided on something? You're too picky."

Jeb shot ter Borcht a dirty glare before resuming his plans. Ter Borcht being ter Borcht helped, only albeit. But most of the time acting as a nusiance, such as ridiculing Jeb with his newest inventions and the newest women fashion. Jeb finally snapped when ter Borcht ranted on how the lady at the social gathering weeks before looked fabulous. He was about to kick ter Borcht out of his house when his daughter, Max, stomped into the room.

"Papa! Ari stole my corsets again!" Max shrieked, still dressed in her sleeping robes. She had planned to meet Fang, but since Ari had stole her corsets, that date had to be put on hold. Max thought it was disgraceful to go into public without any sort of undergarments, many other women would probably agree also. Suddenly, a manical laughter sounded throughout the house and a burnt smell entered the room. It seemed like Ari managed to light the corsets on fire.

But Jeb wasn't amused at the least. His patience wore thin during a time like these.

"EVERYONE, OUT!"

And everyone complied.


	5. Fairy Tales

**Author's Note**: For **CrazyNerdyFangirl** who requested _Max/Nudge_. You'll hate me, CZ, you'll really do.

**Warnings**: Femslash, angst, implied _stuff_, and somewhat morbid.

* * *

**M**ax was devastated, and it wasn't because Fang left.

No, she had gotten over that months ago.

She felt disgusted with herself at the way she had been acting. How could have she not seen? Max was thoroughly disgruntled with Dylan's habit to appear out of nowhere, but that was no reason to ignore the obvious. At first, she was nauseated by her discovery. Though over the months, she found herself drawn more and more to _her._ She didn't act different around Max. She just made her felt warm and safe. Suddenly, like right now, everything was gone, all of her securities and good times. _Poof._ Just like that.

_Help me, Nudge. Where are you?_

Max used her own hand to cover her mouth before she could let out any sound. She missed Nudge's voice, her carefree attitude, and her ability to make everyone smile. Max missed the days where Nudge smiled and gave talked non-stop, even though the elder was scowling her. Nudge made Max feel like she had a responsibility to protect someone that was so...innocent.

However, Nudge was in no way innocent. But Max do enjoy the friendly banters they had or the time where they bad mouthed Dylan. Those days were so fun, and it had repaired the wounds Fang left behind, stitching them up quite nicely.

Nudge knew fully well of the pain Max had been experiencing. She knew that her talkative personality would also calm Max. Though she never suspected that it would go so far.

Maybe Nudge only wanted to solve Max's problems, but she wasn't entirely sure of her reasons either.

But that was beside the main point. The interactions between them seeded something with Nudge's heart. That thing would be their downfall.

_Max had tensed; she could hear Nudge's moans from the other side of the wall._

_Minutes later, Max found herself curling over a toilet bowl with her hand lifting her hair out of the way. Finally, she stopped retching. But her heart wasn't any lighter than it had been hours earlier, when she thought everything was perfect._

_The white porcelain had been tarnished._

_Next day, Max avoided Nudge like the plague. When Nudge went up to her, she gave a fake smile and walk away swiftly with words of reassurance. Of course Nudge had seen through her acting and lies. They had been together for a long, long time. Even though they didn't held any emotional attachment similar to the ones Max and Fang had, Nudge was still a family member. And Max convinced herself that Nudge can't see the hurt._

_Days after days, weeks after weeks, and finally, Nudge was down deep. It wasn't just infatuation anymore. The trickle in the back of her mind reminded Nudge that Max would never return her feels. Though, one night had changed it all._

_Nudge's spirit lifted when she heard her name being called._

_Then everything was in ruins._

_After Max woke, Nudge found herself listening to the sound of Max emptying her stomach from outside the restroom. The reality crashed down on her._

_It was her fault wasn't it?_

No, it wasn't Nudge's fault. Not at all.

She bit down on her palm, hard. The skin was breaking, but she refuse to give in.

The support underneath her shuddered.

Max glared up at the perfect face that loomed over her. Behind her façade, Max was breaking slowly. She will not stop at those restraints. Not when Nudge was still alive, waiting from her to take her away, _like a prince on a white horse_.


	6. Ignorance

She wiped the tears away.

_"It's okay, Angel, everything will be alright."_

Confusion. What does she mean?

* * *

She tried to cook.

_"Sorry! It turned out a bit...ahaha..."_

It was okay. At least she tried.

* * *

She hugged the trembling body.

_"Don't worry. Everything's fine now."_

But the heart still pounded quickly in fear.

* * *

She stared with betrayal in her eyes.

_"Why...?"_

There was the sound of steps.

Further.

And further.

Then the unfurling of wings,

taking flight.

Nevertheless, there was something heavy and empty in Angel's chest.

It nagged and ached.

And it was crushed.

_She didn't need to know that._


	7. Soulmates

_Bones mangled, limbs twisted, a mouth opened in a silent scream, and dried tears. Regret?_

That's how Fang found his soulmate at the bottom of their cliff. Fingers reached out to stroke her grey, lifeless cheeks, but hesitated, then dropping beside his crouching form. Max didn't like it when Fang caressed her cheeks with feather-light touches; she had said it tickled. Tickling was for children, not someone that carried the burden of preventing the world's destruction.

Looking down at her form, he felt nothing inside him cried out to him, not a consuming anger or a burning sadness, only a void where Max had once filled. Out of nowhere, waves of realisation hit him, carrying despair and loss, and drowned him within its confines.

_Huddling in darkness, strange, salty droplets streamed down his face and collected around his chin. Nose red, hair tousled, he glanced around hopefully at the sound of footsteps approaching and feathers rustling._

With the death of his soulmate, Fang had been but an empty shell. Instincts kept him alive, ambition left him, the doll moved monotonously. Can she not see that people were concerned? Come back, he murmured in his raspy voice and reclined his head onto her makeshift coffin. We miss you. A kiss. He heard that the Prince could awaken his Princess with a kiss. Shredding the coffin and ignoring the already decomposing flesh, he pressed his lips to his soulmate's.

Nothing, just the taste of rotten flesh. He retrieved the coffin lid and shied away, but stayed close. Eventually, his eyelids grew heavy, so he closed after a glance at his soulmate.

_He could feel the living around him, contrasting himself and his soulmate. His friends, new and old, picked him up off of the grass and offered sad, reassuring smiles to him. They dusted him, ridding of dry plants that fell like snow around his feet._

* * *

"Can miles truly separate you from friends...If you want to be with someone you love, aren't you already there?" — Richard Bach

* * *

_Wait for me, Max. I'll make everything right, and we can be together again. We're two halves of a whole._


End file.
